


I'm not okay

by chamberswashere



Series: I believe in Sherlock Holmes [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Post-Reichenbach
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-26
Updated: 2012-11-26
Packaged: 2017-11-19 14:33:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/574290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chamberswashere/pseuds/chamberswashere
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John’s thoughts on the death of his best friend Sherlock Holmes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm not okay

**Author's Note:**

> This was meant to be angst piece that would archive everyone's thoughts regarding Sherlock after the fall. This one is from John's perspective. There will be no smut or anything like that, just raw emotion hopefully truth. I wrote it just a couple of weeks after Reichenbach Fall aired so I was pretty out of it when I wrote it. I intend to write more installments and maybe they will grow in length. But for now, have this little dribble. Please comment! Suggestions and encouragements are what I need right now to revive my dying muse.

Not much has changed since then.  Everyone tells me it will pass with time.  But time has passed, and  _it_  hasn’t, whatever  _it_  is.  I feel the same as I did back then.  It’s one thing to see your comrades die in battle, but it’s quite another-  No, I can’t say it like that.  Let me try again.  In Afghanistan everything happened so fast I barely had time to think.  The adrenaline running its course through my body energized me, kept me going, helped me survive through the onslaught of death that pervaded everything around me.  But this time.  He died slowly.  At least, it seemed that way to me.  I ran as hard as I could but with every step I took I couldn’t get any closer.  And by the time I actually got there, it was too late.  Being an army doctor, and a good one at that, I tried to think of ways I could fix it but I knew there was nothing I could really do.  I wasn’t myself then, I’m not myself now.  That tragedy, that helplessness and self-loathing that comes with not being able to save someone, was like an impossible weight being thrown onto my shoulders.  A weight that was immensely heavier than anything I’d ever experienced in the service of my country.

Sherlock Holmes was my best friend.  Now he’s dead.  And I’m not okay.


End file.
